


Night Moves

by UnderAPseudonym



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, I'm Bad At Tagging
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 02:27:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderAPseudonym/pseuds/UnderAPseudonym
Summary: Joan Beaufort is a young woman just turned hunter. When a chance encounter turns into a partnership, she finds out things about herself that she could have never known without The Winchesters.Or, the 'This Girl Is Obviously Somebody's Daughter But Is It Sam Or Dean Or Castiel? Or God Forbid It's Garth Or Something.' prompt.





	Night Moves

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, thanks for reading! Please drop a comment and some kudos if you want me to continue this story!

She heard the heavy footsteps behind her. Two pairs.

She tried to keep her heart from leaping out of her chest, hearing the footsteps get closer. They sounded big.

She held the writhing vampire tight in her grasp, one arm wrapped firmly around his neck, the other holding a wooden dagger to his chest.

The footsteps approached, finally revealing two large black frames. In the darkness of the vampire nest, there was no way to see their features.

"Stay right there or your friend is getting it!" She spat, trying to put on a brave face. But she knew that if these two huge figures were vampires--she was done for. She began to accept that at the ripe age of 21, she would die. It wasn't what she'd wanted, but at least she got to go out doing good, knowing she'd saved a couple lives. That's all she could hope for.

"Whoa, whoa." The taller one stepped forward, putting down the blade in his hand. "We're hunters, just like you. We had a lead, but it looks like you got everything finished up." He tried to smile, the other man slowly pushing forward behind him.

"Likely story." She hissed, plunging the stake deep into the man's chest she was holding. And in one fluid motion, she pulled out the stake, standing up to drive it into the tall man's trachea. But before she could, the shorter man emerged from the darkness, smacking away the stake, grabbing her wrist tightly and whipping her around. She went to grab for the stake again, managing to give the shorter man a stiff punch to the jaw. He fell back for a second, giving her enough time to replace the stake at the tall man's throat, using him as leverage to put the shorter man in a chokehold.

"Who are you and why are you here." She demanded, panting a little.

"This one's feisty." The shorter man chuckled, his eyes beginning to show a dark green in the pale moonlight.

"Tell me!" She shouted, tugging on him tighter. He coughed and spat for a second, before the taller one started talking.

"Sam! I'm Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean!" he exclaimed, hands up.

She immediately dropped the weapons, releasing Dean from a chokehold. She stood back for a moment, just in awe. These were her heroes, the best at her craft. 

"Oh my god. I'm--I'm so sorry--I had no idea--" She began to stammer, but Dean was still smiling.

"You're damn good." he laughed, massaging at his neck, already beginning to get red.

"What's your name?" Sam asked, curious.

"Joan Beaufort. But everyone I know calls me J." She grinned, causing the two men to half-smile.

"Listen, why don't we go back, get a drink, and compare notes?" Dean offered. "Where are you staying?"

"The Super 8 down the road." she sputtered, in complete shock that her idols were asking her to 'compare notes'. These were the guys with all the notes, they'd seen anything and everything. And now, she could look through their book. The book by the famous John Winchester. It was the bible for hunters.

"We're room 230 at the Motel 6. Just meet us there." Dean spoke, turning his back, Sam following out.

She stood stunned for a moment, before heading out the front door and into her car.

 

The motel looked pretty standard, just like all the others she'd seen. It was that fine line between dirty and eclectic; vintage and poor.

She got out of her car, noticing the slick black Impala that sat in the parking lot. Legend had it that the Winchester brothers rolled around in an Impala just like that one, so she figured it was theirs. She sauntered over to it, barely swiping her finger across the chassis. She loved her car, sometimes more than she thought was normal, but this--this was a real beauty. Before she could lay another hand on it, she heard a barking voice. 

"Whoa--hands off." She jumped a little, but was met with Dean's charming smile. She allowed herself to smirk a little, relaxing. 

"This car is seriously bitchin'." She grinned, standing up straight.

"Yeah--well. That's my baby. Always has been. And before it was my baby, it was my dad's, he--"

"John Winchester." She interrupted, unable to stop herself. It was like word vomit, but Dean slowly nodded. "I'm sorry--it's just. You have to know that you guys are A-List in the hunting community. I heard so many stories and legends about you guys when I was becoming a hunter." She gushed, trying to dim the stars she knew were in her eyes.

"Don't believe everything you hear. We're just two regular guys." He chuffed, the smile being wiped off Joan's face. "Not to crush your dreams or anything." He spoke, noticing her shift in mood.

There was a silence, where they just stared at each other, in complete silence. Joan felt awkward, not because of the silence, but because Dean was looking at her like a science experiment; studying her. It was almost like she could see the cogs working like clockwork behind his hazel gaze. He was onto something, but she didn't know what.

"Why don't we go upstairs and talk about the case?" He asked, shaking it off. Joan nodded, following him up the stairs and into the small motel room.

There, she was met with the sight of Sam, slumped over a little table, compared to his size, furiously typing on his keyboard. He turned his attention to her, immediately getting up and smiling. She cringed a little, taken aback by the action. 

"Easy, tiger." Dean spoke to Sam, causing her to smirk again. "He likes guests." Dean quipped.

"So, what did you have on the case?" Sam asked, crossing his arms and leading her over to the left wall, which was plastered in papers and reports.

"Well--" she paused, pulling a map out of her bag. "I think we've doubled down on this one. It looks like a turf war between some vamps and werewolves. Nothing the three of us can't handle, but the nest I cleaned out tonight is just the beginning. This spans 30 miles. Maybe more." She summarized, Sam and Dean nodding.

"Is there anyone in the area that you know? Maybe some backup?" Sam asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Unfortunately, not. The closest guy I know is 30 minutes outside of Omaha." She took a deep breath, looking away. "And he wouldn't pick up the phone if I called."

A silence hung in the air, as the boys realized there was a personal story attached to the statement.

"Well--" Dean spoke, causing Joan's head to snap up again. "At least we know what we're looking at. I think we'll link up our investigations. We're safer in numbers."

Joan nodded, trying to shake off her previous thoughts.

"I'll go downstairs and see if they have a cot or sleeping bag or something. You can take one of the beds." Sam spoke, walking out of the room.

"Oh, I--I could never--You guys--" she began to stutter again, but Dean put up a hand, silencing her.

"Please. We're working the case together. This is just easiest."

"But--I feel like a burden, I mean--"

"Seriously." He spoke more forcefully this time, without as much of a smile. "You go back to your motel, you're a dead man. Being seen around us is an omen. And no one is getting hurt on my watch." He finished, sending a chill up her spine. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. They say to never meet your idols.

"Well--" She paused, trying to find the words. "Thank you." Dean just nodded silently.

"I'm going to take a shower. I suggest you get some shut eye." He spoke gruffly, grabbing his duffle and shutting the door behind him. Just moments later, she heard the water running.

She sat down on the bed, wondering if this was all real. And if it was real, was it the right move? Dean said it himself, they were a bad omen. What if when she tried to leave after this job, she couldn't return to hunting? What if--

Sam busted through the door at that moment, a large sleeping bag in hand. It knocked her out of her thoughts, making her sit up quickly.

"Sorry." He spoke quietly, beginning to lay the sleeping bag out on the ground. "So, Dean's in the shower?" He asked, obviously trying to make conversation.

"No. It's a rare poltergeist that only eats cheeseburgers and apple pie, preying on young beautiful women that are half his age." She chuckled, causing Sam to smile a little.

"At least you have a sense of humor. We've had worse partners." He smirked, and she tried not to shudder. Partners. Never in her wildest dreams did she think Sam Winchester would call her a partner. 

After he finished spreading out the sleeping bag, he sat pulled a chair up to sit across from her, grabbing two beers from the fridge and then handing her one. Silently, they cracked open the cans, just drinking in the quiet dimness of the room.

"So, what's your story? Where are you from? How'd you get into hunting?" Sam asked the loaded question, catching Joan off-guard.

"Well--" She began. "I'm from about 45 miles outside Tulsa, Oklahoma. I grew up in a ridiculously small town, raised by a single mother. She was killed by something inhuman just a few months after my 6th birthday." Sam's face began to frown.

"I'm so sorry." He murmured, trying to be sincere, but she just smiled.

"Don't be. Dead moms, right?" She laughed humorlessly, continuing. "I went to live with my drunk uncle, who had no one in his life except for me. I decided to forget about my mother's death, and isolation helped me do well in school. All I could focus on was my studies. Then, I got accepted to Harvard." She could tell Sam was both impressed and sad. She knew his story. The same thing had happened to him. "I went to college there, and that's where I met Bill." She tried not to sound too heartbroken, but it wasn't working. "Bill was a hunter, and taught me everything I know. When he needed help, I would assist him on hunts, and one weekend, we didn't make it back as fast as we anticipated. It was a nasty wendigo case. I had just finished my undergraduate, and I was supposed to have an interview to get into graduate school.. But we missed it." She took another swig, letting it sink in. "I figured God had something different planned for me. So I went with Bill, touring the country, hunting. We were the dynamic duo."

"A romance gone wrong?" Sam asked, his deep brown doe eyes forcing the answers out of her.

"Yeah. And now he doesn't take my calls, answer my texts. Nothing. That was 8 months ago." She finished, finally meeting Sam's gaze again. "Now I'm here. It's almost an even trade to meet my heroes." She grinned, trying to muster a positive attitude.

Sam sat quiet for a moment, before smirking.

"Men are stupid. We are oblivious and dismissive and--and utterly dumb." He snickered, causing a smile to rise onto her face. "I'm sure whatever happened, you aren't entirely to blame. No one ever is."

"I don't know. It was--" She began, but he interrupted.

"I know it's easy to take full responsibility for something that may look like your fault. Believe me. But you have to recognize that there's other forces at play. Always. It's never just you." He muttered, something genuine behind his eyes making her listen.

She'd read the stories, heard the legends. And yet, with every passing moment, the Winchesters seemed like more of an enigma than she'd ever previously thought. She knew the background, she understood just what he was talking about, but the way Sam spoke, it felt fresh and authentic; like she'd never heard the stories, like this was the first time she'd ever been told.

"No wonder you guys are the best." Joan smiled warmly, trying to keep the tears in her eyes, stiffening her face.

Sam cocked his head, waiting for her to finish.

"I've never met another hunter who cares so much about the job. Most of the time, they're just happy to be killing something. But you guys are different. There's--" She took a deep breath, trying to find the vernacular. "Heart. There's a lot of heart." She finished, smiling again, this time bringing a grin to Sam's face.

"It's all we have. After the things we've seen, after doing this our entire lives; you learn to think with the heart and not with the head. Thinking with the head will drive you nuts. You'll be haunted by forced decisions and mistakes. Thinking with your heart might hurt more, but it's worth the sanity." He chuckled, taking another pull from his beer.

Dean busted out of the bathroom, in flannel pants and a T-shirt, hair wet and falling every which way.

"Did I walk in on something?" He cringed, causing Sam and Joan to begin laughing harder.

"I think everybody needs a little shut-eye. I'll take the floor." Dean announced, and Joan immediately began to retaliate.

"No, please. I'm the guest, you guys should sleep in your beds. I can--"

"You can sleep in that bed." Sam pointed behind her, interrupting.

They both stared at her, with triumphant smiles on their faces, and she caved.

"Okay, alright. Fine." She surrendered, beginning to pull the covers over her.

The exhaustion hit her like a freight train, and it took all of a few minutes for her to pass out.

 

 

"I'm just saying it's weird. You invited her into our room, immediately trusted her for no reason. You never do that." Joan woke to hear Sam's voice, hushed, like he was trying not to wake her. She kept her eyes squeezed shut, wanting to hear the rest of the conversation.

"I don't know. I just feel like I know her from somewhere. She's personable to me. And she's just a kid, Sam. When did we start turning our back on kids?" Dean quipped, causing a sigh from Sam.

"I trust you, man. But, I just think we jumped the gun on this one. She seems fine, but we've been wrong before." Sam snapped, causing a silence to follow.

"I know you're awake, might as well get up." Dean's statement sent ice water through her veins. She slowly opened her eyes, sitting up to see both of them sitting at the small table in the corner.

"I'm gonna--I'm gonna get my things and go." She stuttered, causing Dean to roll his eyes heavily and Sam to set his jaw. She began to get up, but there was a loud flutter. It made her jump, seeing a new and mysterious figure standing in front of her.

"Oh--Oh my--" She spluttered, but the man in front of her finished.

"God? Yes, I know him." The man had dark black hair, with striking blue eyes. He wore a tan trench over a normal black suit.

"Jesus, Cas. You're gonna give the girl a heart attack." Dean chided, moving over from the table.

"Cas--Cas--Castiel?" She whispered, still unable to form full words and sentences.

"Hello, Joan. I'm afraid leaving would be inadvisable." he spoke matter-of-factly. She couldn't believe he knew her name. But if he truly was an angel of the Lord, she figured he must know everyone.

"What? Why?" Joan snapped into consciousness. 

"A demon killed your mother. And now they're coming for you."

It felt like ice water had been injected right to her heart. The chill was unbearable. She never knew what killed her mother, but now, to be told by some angel, the feeling was indescribable.

She couldn't speak. There were no words.

"They couldn't trace you until you met up with Sam and Dean." He finished, leaving surprise on Sam and Dean's face.

Joan tried to remember to breathe. She was no good to anyone if she didn't breathe. 

Her mother. 

The only person who'd ever truly loved her.

"They'll kill you." Cas finished, a grim look washing over his face.

She tried not to hyperventilate. She was tough, but she didn't want to die. Did anyone really want to die? Like really truly?

"Cas, give her a minute." Dean pushed Cas away gently, looking right into Joan's eyes. "You good?" he asked, trying to be gentle, but failing pretty miserably.

Joan finally met his gaze, tears hiding silently at the edges of her eyes.

"I--I--" She tried to muster some words, but she just couldn't.

She began to sob with reckless abandon, leaving the three men silent and stunned. She was crying because she was scared and overwhelmed, but mostly she was embarrassed. She was crying like a baby in front of her heroes.

"Jesus, Cas, have some bedside manner. She's just a kid." Dean huffed, putting two calloused hands on her shoulders. "We're gonna figure this out, okay? No one is going to die--except for that son of a bitch." He promised, causing her to look up at him with watery vision.

"You don't know who I am. You took me in no questions asked, and while that's admirable, you don't owe me a damn thing. This might be something you steer clear of." She sniffled, unable to move.

"We aren't known for shying away from some demon action." Dean chuckled. "What kind of stories are they telling these days?"

Joan laughed lightly, shaking her head.

"Only the good ones."

A silence hung in the air again, each of them trying to find something to say.

"Heading back to the bunker should keep you guys under the radar. But you have to leave right now. I'll be back when I have more details." Cas demanded, and the boys sprung into action, packing bags and throwing things in the car, while Joan just moseyed around, making sure all the stuff in her backpack was still there.

They all walked down the stairs, loading their bags quickly into the Impala.

The boys didn't ask questions, they didn't ask if she wanted to come, they simply loaded her things in the car. And after a few quiet words exchanged between Cas and Dean, they all got into the Impala, the engine roaring to life.

She didn't know where she was going, but she knew she was getting closer to an answer she didn't know she needed.

 

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. We're here." Dean barked, causing Joan to scramble awake, and roll out of the car. 

It didn't look like much. It was a bunker, off the side of some random highway. And if you didn't know anything about the Winchesters, you would think it to be inconspicuous. 

But she knew.

This was the Men of Letters headquarters, it's where the Winchesters settled down, when they weren't out hunting. 

She helped grab bags out of the trunk, and followed the boys through the door. Once they got to the bottom of the staircase, she allowed her mouth to hang agape a little, taking in the scene. No one had ever seen this place, but everyone talked about it. It was a place of lore.

The boys watched on in confusion as she dropped her things quickly, striding over to run her fingers gently over the looming bookshelves, taking note of every title and author. Silently, she walked into the foyer, looking up at the grandiose spiral staircase. She turned quickly, grinning at the perplexed men.

"Every hunter talks about this place, and no one knows where it is, no one has ever seen it. It's a legend." She smirked, crossing her arms over her chest and taking it all in.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're a fangirl." Dean laughed gruffly, picking up her bags for her.

"Yeah--" She blushed, looking away. "More like an observant hunter, who takes in as many stories as she can."

There was short silence, where they all just smiled.

"Come on. I'll show you to your room." Dean called, moving down a hallway.

"You didn't have to take my bags. I could have done it." She followed him closely, not wanting to get lost in the intimidating maze.

"That's alright. No biggie." He grunted, opening one of the doors, revealing a small room. "It's not much, but it's better than a motel." He sighed, setting down her bags on the double bed. "Bathroom is across the hall, Sammy's room is right next door, and I'm down the hall to the right." 

She nodded, still trying to believe it all, take it all in. Then, her mind wandered to why they'd come. There was a demon on her tail, one that an angel was afraid of. That meant it had to be pretty bad. She wondered if maybe this was how it all ended. She got to meet her heroes before she died, before meeting the same ends her mother did. 

And almost as if he was reading her mind, he put a heavy hand on her shoulders.

"This isn't the first time we've had to gank a demon. And we've gotten the jump on them every single time." He smiled sadly, walking away quickly, leaving her in the room alone.

She sat down on the bed, leaning back slowly.

She squeezed her eyes tight shut.

This had to all be a dream. When she opened her eyes, she would wake up in her old dorm room, laying in Bill's arms, getting up to get ready for class. She would write the whole thing off as a nightmare, telling Bill every detail over breakfast. But alas, when she opened her eyes, she was met with the same metal ceiling and modest decor.

A flapping noise sat her straight up, reaching for the small knife she had on her hip. But as soon as she registered the face, she relaxed.

"Castiel, you scared the crap out of me." She sighed, wiping at her brow.

"Please, just call me Cas." He murmured, sitting on the floor across from her.

There was a silence, where Joan looked at him, waiting for him to speak, but he never did.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, finally breaking the quiet.

"Well--I--I just thought I would keep you company. You are sad." He muttered, completely serious.

"Sad? How would you even know that?" She quipped, crossing her arms across her chest. He was quiet for a minute before answering.

"I'm your guardian angel. I hear everything you pray for, and I feel when you feel." he confessed, looking away from her.

Guardian angel? This had to be a joke. 

"I hand-picked you at birth. I watched over your shoulder. Every time you prayed, I heard you." He spoked gently, finally meeting my gaze.

She couldn't stop the furious knee-jerk reaction that spewed out.

"You mean you watched me every time my uncle beat me? And you never did anything? All the bad I've had to suffer, you didn't intervene once?" She hissed, standing up from the bed.

"After you turned 5, before your mother's death, I lost the connection for a while; then it came back, then I lost it. Simply put, the apocalypse, the death of God, the raising of celestial beings, and dying a few times, interrupted or stole the grace I had to connect with you." He looked genuinely sad, like he was guilty. It softened her. She didn't know why, but she had a sweet spot for the guy. "And out of all the people I was guardian to, you were the one I wished I hadn't lost." He whispered, shaking his head. "Your father and I--we were once great friends."

"You knew my father?" She snapped, shock and intrigue flooding her system.

"Yes. We were more than great friends. We were--" He struggled with his lexicon.

"Best friends?" She entered, Castiel smiling warmly.

"Yeah. Best friends."

There was a long silence, where they both sat down on the bed.

"What was he like?" She asked, breaking the quiet.

"He was--ruthless. Strong, stubborn, and an expert killer. When he really got into a mindset, there was a fire behind his eyes. Everything else either moved or got killed." Cas sighed, like he was trying to remember.

"He was a hunter?"

"Yes. The best. No one knew him then, he was a nobody with a knife collection." Cas smiled. "But he was important to Heaven, so I was asked to keep an eye on him. When you were born, I took you as my special project." He finished, another heavy sigh escaping him.

"He sounds terrible." She murmured, disappointed.

"No. He saved many lives. And helped me out of a few tough spots. He wasn't just a hunter, he was a good man; kind, caring, and morally just. He was faithful and honest." Cas spoke again, trying to backpedal from his previous blunt honesty. "He sacrificed everything for the people he loved. Everything. And there is no braver man I've ever known." Cas finished, looking down, almost in regret.

"Is he in heaven, Cas?" She kept back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

"No."

She let a tear slip out on accident. When Cas looked back up, registering her grief, he wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm sorry. I'm not good at this." He grunted, and it cause Joan to chuckle.

"No, you're great." She pulled away gently. "You've given me more answers in 2 minutes than I've gotten in 20 years." She sighed, sniffling the tears away.

"If he would have known about you, he would have dropped everything to come get you. He valued very few things above family." Cas murmured, putting a hand on her knee. "I think your mother knew that."

They sat in silence, Joan leaning into Cas' shoulder. It was easy to understand that he was her guardian angel, given the bond she already felt to him. She didn't know how long they sat there before Dean threw the door open. Immediately he recoiled back, surprise and confusion hitting his face.

"Nice of you to join the caravan, Cas. Did I interrupt something?" He asked gruffly, almost embarrassed.

"No--um--" Joan coughed, standing up. "We were just having a chat. What's up?" She composed herself, wiping at her eyes.

"Well--uh--Sammy got dinner, and we think we've got a lead on the demon." Dean stuttered, trying to finish the sentence. He simply nodded, shutting the door behind him. 

"Thanks, again. Seriously." Joan smiled at Cas, earning a smile back. The two of them hugged quickly before walking into the kitchen, where three bags of burgers were sitting out. Sam and Dean both gave her incredulous looks, like they were waiting for her to break down into tears or something.

"What do we got?" She asked, feigning a perky attitude. Sam believed it, but she could tell Dean was still trying to feel her out.

"Burgers and salad. I didn't know what you'd want so I just got double the order Dean and I usually get. And--" he turned to Cas, handing him a large bag, like a bag the size of a small suitcase. "That's yours." Joan got a peek, seeing the whole thing filled up with burgers. Cas took it, sitting down at the table in the next room. "So, what'll it be?" Sam asked, gesturing towards her.

"Burgers. Salads are for rabbits." She smirked, causing Dean to chortle.

They took their food, sitting down at the same table as Cas. Dean sat next to her, Sam and Cas sitting across from them.

She must have been hungry, because as soon as she bit into the bacon burger, she couldn't stop the quiet moan that escaped her.

"Holy shit this is good." She whispered, seeing Dean replicate the exact same motions. Sam and Cas smiled, starting in on their food.

"What?" Joan asked, curious as to what was so funny.

"Nothing. It's--nothing." Sam smiled, shoveling more salad into his mouth.

They ate in relative silence, cleaning up quickly and getting to the matter at hand.

"So we lost him for a minute, but we had some intel that he crashed The Roadhouse, looking for us. Killed a few hunters. Luckily there weren't many people there when he showed up." Sam sighed, pulling up the reports. 

"Wait, The Roadhouse as in Harvelle's?" Joan asked lowly, almost afraid of the answer.

"Yeah, you know that place?" Dean asked, confused.

"I used to frequent it. Do you have names of the people killed?" She pressed, trying not to get too visibly worked up. Needless to say, it didn't work.

"Who are you looking for?" Sam cut to the chase, all three of them leaning in closer.

"Bill--William Harvelle." She sighed, confessing. The boys leaned back a little, each of them chewing on the information differently.

"I didn't know there were other Harvelle's." Dean chuffed, shocked into disbelief.

"That was your boyfriend, wasn't it?" Sam replied, to which Joan replied with a meek nod. "He's not on the list. He must have escaped." Sam finished, looking at Joan while she let out a sigh of relief.

"Hold on, who is this guy? And how is he related to the Harvelle's?" Dean questioned at Joan. She took a moment before speaking.

"His mother is Joanna Beth Harvelle." Joan spoke quietly, shock and surprise resurfacing on the boys' faces; especially Dean's. "She had him with some guy in college, before she moved back to the roadhouse, and he was raised by Jo's distant uncle and aunt. When Ellen and Jo died, he was the sole survivor to the Roadhouse. So he moved home and became a full-fledged hunter at 15." Joan retold, Dean still sat in shock.

"She never--she never said anything." Dean breathed, like his lungs had been swept out with a vacuum. 

"Ellen never knew." Joan shot back, finishing the story. Slowly, Dean and Sam nodded in understanding.

"That better be all the surprises you have up your sleeve. I don't think I can handle anything else." Dean grunted, taking another bite of the burger.

"Anyways--" Sam began again. "Our best bet is probably to go to The Roadhouse, talk to the survivors. Find out what info the demon was after." The rest of them nodded in agreement, silence settling over the table. 

Joan really didn't want to go to The Roadhouse, for fear of having to face Bill, but if it was the only lead to the demon--she didn't have a choice. 

 

They finished their meal, Sam and Cas loading up the Impala with equipment.

"So this is how you live, hunt to hunt, going when business calls?" Joan asked, helping Dean with the trash.

"Pretty much." He sighed, then turning to get a good look at her. "Isn't that how you live?"

"I'm still very new to this. The hunt you guys caught me on was only my third solo hunt. I haven't gotten used to the pace of it." She murmured, not able to hold his intense stare. 

There was a silence, and she could tell that Dean was pitying her right then. She could feel his empathetic stare.

"I know this isn't gonna help, but I wanna say it anyways." He began, stepping in her way, so she had to look up at him. "I'm sorry this is happening." 

Tears threatened her again, but she held back.

"I'm just still trying to understand this. I don't know why a demon would want me." She muttered, not allowing herself to cry in front of her idol again. She was being a baby.

"I don't know either, but there's no reason to worry yet. No one's gonna die. Not while I'm still breathing." He grimaced, putting a stiff hand on her shoulder. 

She nodded, watching Dean walk away. 

She didn't think she'd ever felt more alone in her life before. And that was saying a lot. She'd endured quite the life, making it through some traumatic experiences, but this had to be the worst. 

"Are you coming?" Dean asked, turning around quickly.

"Yeah--uh--sorry." She stuttered, going after him quickly.

 

The car ride had been pretty low-key, with Dean playing his music and driving, Sam reading a book in the shotgun seat, while she leaned into Cas' shoulder in the backseat.

The sky had turned dark, and the rain was spattering on the windows quietly. She was nearly off to sleep when her favorite song came on.

Slowly, she sat up, almost alarming Cas and Sam, who were paying close attention to her.

She saw Dean smirk a little.

"You like this song, huh?" He asked, turning it up a little.

"It's my all-time favorite song." She let a small grin creep up on her face.

I was a little too tall, could've used a few pounds.  
Tight pants points & hardly renowned.  
She was a black haired beauty with big dark eyes.  
And points all her own, sitting way up high.

Dean sang the verse perfectly, causing Joan and Sam to chuckle lowly. 

"Didn't they ever tell the stories of how great a singer I am?" He quipped, Cas now smiling.

"No, but I did get told a story about how you got boo'd off a stage while singing 'Too Sexy For My Love'." She shot back, causing his smile to flicker for a moment.

Out past the cornfields where the woods got heavy.  
Out in the backseat of my 60' Chevy.  
Working on mysteries without any clues.

Sam joined in now, both the brothers laughing and smiling.

"Okay now, everybody in." Dean spoke above the music.

Working on our night moves.  
Trying to make some front page driving news.  
Working on our night moves--in the summertime.

For a moment, Joan was able to forget that she was headed towards more evil than she'd ever seen in her life. She was able to just smile and sing along to her favorite song. She focused on the 'happy' for a moment because she didn't know what kind of 'sad' lie ahead. 

She looked at the people who surrounded her. Two men and an angel who had dropped everything to keep her safe, to help her through this. She had been blessed. She had to force herself to see it that way. It could be a hell of a lot worse.

Slowly, the song came to an end, and they were thrown back into reality.

She slouched back down onto Cas' shoulder, shutting her eyes.

All of her thoughts loomed, making it impossible to sleep. But just for a moment, she was able to imagine somewhere else, away from all this.


End file.
